


"If Home Is Where the Heart Is, Then We're All Just Fucked"

by remuszaneredvines



Category: Arrested Development
Genre: Brief mention of "following people to their cars", Family, Gen, Michael and Lindsay are only mentioned, Really brief suicidal thoughts, mentions of stripping, not sure how much I like this but I wanted to post something in honor of Cinco de Cuatro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6753016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remuszaneredvines/pseuds/remuszaneredvines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which GOB realizes how lonely he is, crashes a party, and then goes right back to where he started. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Why don't you come back, brother?" Buster asks. </p>
<p>"There's no place for me here." GOB says it partly because he feels like he's seen it in a movie and it sounded dramatic enough for the moment, but also because it's actually pretty true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"If Home Is Where the Heart Is, Then We're All Just Fucked"

GOB is staring up at the dark ceiling of a dingy apartment, wondering why he's alone.

He is twenty-one today, and at ten pm on his twenty-first birthday, he should be surrounded by friends who are buying him legal drinks, and playing bar games and having intoxicated sex with some girl with low self-esteem. 

GOB hasn't done any of these things today. He slept until noon, after a long Saturday night of dancing and taking his clothes off and making bedroom eyes at strangers that aren't supposed to touch him. After he woke up, he took his tips and bought some bread and mustard and lighter fluid. Where did it come from? The store on the corner. 

There’s an extra forty bucks in GOB’s wallet, and the knees of his pants are dirty. GOB doesn't really remember much about it, but that's kind of the point of forgetting. Except - damn, now he knows what happened, because if he pokes around in his head and looks at the clues he can usually figure it out, even if he doesn't remember any details. 

His family would be so ashamed, but that's what makes it fun. Right?

It's then he realizes why he's alone on his birthday. It's because there's no one that actually cares about him.

After he gets off work in the wee hours of the next Saturday morning, GOB finds the guy who seems to have claimed him as his favorite stripper at the Magic Hour and follows him to his car. The guy tells GOB that he's a better stripper than whore, but he gives him fifty bucks anyway. This time, GOB doesn't forget it. What's the point of doing something to piss off your family if you try to forget what you even did?

And two weeks after that, he crashes Michael and Lindsay's graduation celebration that their parents are holding in the penthouse. He equips an old trick jacket with some illusions and shit, even goes and buys a couple mice, even though he hasn't had much time to practice and refine his illusions between work and sleep and whatever else it is he does. GOB isn't exactly sure what he's planning on doing when he gets there, but it ends up not even mattering because he's soon intercepted by his mother, who thinks he’s going to "ruin the party" for Michael and Lindsay. He never even catches a glimpse of the twins before he finds himself pushed down the hallway and into a guest bedroom with the promise that he would be dealt with later. GOB thinks that's stupid - he's not a kid anymore. He's twenty-one with a job and an apartment. And apparently, no one that cares about him. 

He lays on the perfectly-made bed for what seems like hours, unsure of why he’s still there but unable to bring himself to just leave. He finally sits up, tired of remaining in the same position for so long. It's then he realizes that there's someone standing in the room with him. 

"Bustie?" GOB asks in disbelief. He'd kind of forgotten about that kid. He'd gotten pretty tall. "How long have you been in here?"

"Ten minutes or so." Buster has a blank, innocent look on his face.

"Jesus. You can always tell a Milford man," GOB mutters. "How did you even get in here?"

"Well, the door wasn't locked, so I just came in." 

Damn. GOB hadn't thought to check. Oh well.

"Hey, Bustie, have you seen Mom? Is she mad? Did she say anything about me?"

Buster's brow furrows. "Mother? She didn't seem angry when I saw her last. Just impatient for Rosa to bring out more drinks. And no, she didn't say anything about you."

GOB is silent. He's not sure what to say in the face of this downward spiral of realizing that no one gives a shit about him, except: "Want to see an illusion?"

Buster's face lights up, then he looks a little apprehensive. "Will it light me on fire?"

"No, it won't light you on fire," GOB says exasperatedly, ignoring the singed cuffs of his jacket. "Come here." Buster walks over to the side of the bed, still looking unsure. 

GOB only has to pause for a second to think up some patter to go with his illusion. "Don't be so timid. You're acting like a little-" he puts his hand behind Buster's ear, twists his arm inside his sleeve, "-mouse!" He pulls a white mouse from behind his brother's ear, eliciting an excited squeal.

"Wow, that was neat, brother!" Buster exclaims happily.

"Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" GOB grins. It feels odd on his face, and he realizes that this is the first time he's really smiled in weeks. 

"Where did it come from?" Buster continues excitedly.

"Same place that this one-" he puts his hand behind Buster's ear again and rotates his wrist "-came from!" Another white, fuzzy mouse appears in GOB's hand, and Buster squeaks in delight. GOB hands it to Buster, but the mouse's scratchy feet surprise him, and he drops it. The mouse scurries across the bedroom, and GOB glares at his brother. "Nice one, Bustie."

"Sorry, brother. We'd better find it - Mother would have kittens if she found a mouse in here..."

GOB's eyes widen. "Oh, shit, I forgot about Mom. She's supposed to come in here and yell at me or something. You better find that mouse and get out of here, Buster. I don't want her thinking I'm corrupting you with my magician-y lifestyle," he says, even though the mouse is the first 'real' magic he's done in a while, besides making his pants disappear and shit like that at the Magic Hour.

Buster scours the floor for the second mouse as GOB slides the first one back up his sleeve. Finally, Buster resurfaces with the mouse in hand. "Here you go, brother." He hands the mouse to GOB. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," GOB mutters, focused on getting the terrified mouse to calm down in his hand. He doesn't want to put the scared little thing up his sleeve just yet. Those suckers have mean little claws. He's preoccupied enough by the mouse that he doesn't immediately notice Buster peering at him through his glasses. He finally looks up after feeling that funny 'you're being watched' prickle on his neck. 

"Why don't you come back, brother?" Buster asks. 

"There's no place for me here." GOB says it partly because he feels like he's seen it in a movie and it sounded dramatic enough for the moment, but also because it's actually pretty true. 

Buster looks down. "I miss having you around. Michael and Lindsay never pay attention to me, and I don't think Dad likes me much. At least you played with me sometimes. And you took me to the park. Mother never wants to go to the park with me."

GOB had usually taken Buster to the park a few blocks away just so he himself would have an excuse to leave the house and buy cigarettes whenever he ran out and whatever else he was using to feel good. But he can see why Buster would have seen it as a welcome escape from home, even if GOB punched him at least once every time they went. And he can't deny that he'd kind of enjoyed roughing the little guy up and trying to get him out from under their mother's wing, though he'd never tell anyone that. Bustie was pretty easy to be around. GOB didn't feel like he had to constantly please Buster, like he did with his parents or the people at school or even his other siblings. 

But as surprisingly nice of a time as he was having with Buster, GOB has to remember that he’s only there for a visit. 

"I can't stay, Bustie. I've got a job, and an apartment, and a super hot girlfriend in LA. Plus, you're about old enough to walk to the park by yourself now, though, right?"

Buster is silent, eyebrows furrowing behind his glasses. He'd had those glasses forever, GOB remembers. Or rather, he'd had glasses forever. He had to get new ones every couple months because GOB would always break them when he was feeling particularly jealous or sad or whatever.

But GOB isn't there to remember good times with his little brother. As Buster slips out of the room, GOB realizes that he can't really remember what he is there for, actually, but at this point, he’s just waiting for his mother to hurry up and come yell at him so he can get it over with.

 

But his mother never comes. At two or so in the morning, after the party is over and everyone has left or gone to bed, GOB walks to the window of the guest bedroom. It's unlocked. He opens it up and sits on the sill, dangles his legs over the side. His family's penthouse is on the eighth floor, so there's plenty of space between his feet and the ground. Definitely far enough to kill someone, so no hope of a crazy stunt to get his parents' attention. He thinks of jumping anyway. Kicks his dangling feet against the wall like a little kid, is reminded of Buster. 

Swings his feet back over the sill, gets back inside the bedroom. He tucks himself into the guest bed, suddenly exhausted. GOB steals a few hours of sleep and leaves quietly through the front door before everyone wakes up. His place is neon lights and tearaway pants and all kinds of things up the sleeve, he thinks, not that penthouse, and not that family. At least out there, he can make people care about him, somehow. He'll figure it out. But here, there's no chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "27" by Fall Out Boy.


End file.
